


Echos in the Darkness

by Aliceisophelia



Series: Reylo Week 2018 [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi
Genre: Desperation, F/M, Jealous Kylo Ren, Kylo Ren Has Issues, Kylo Ren Has No Chill, Mental Instability, Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Kylo Ren, Reylo - Freeform, Reylo Week, Reylo Week 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-27 19:48:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14432835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aliceisophelia/pseuds/Aliceisophelia
Summary: Mine. She’s mine. MINE.All he could think about was someone else touching her. How that thought stole the air from his lungs. She was his and no one else’s. No one could understand her like he could, no one knew her like he did. She may have rejected him and shut the door in his face but she was his and… and… and he couldn’t find her. Without her the darkness rose and crashed through him like waves, each darker and deeper than the next.It was eating him up inside, tinging the edges of his vision. At first, he thought it would be no trouble to find her and surely the Resistance would come out of hiding before long, some piece of intelligence would cause them to cross paths again, but it had been months without word. He had fleeting visions of her through their bond but as soon as she noticed it, she’d shut it down, rejecting him all over again. Each time his darkness rose, strangling him with grief and anger. Then the nightmares started.





	Echos in the Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> This is for Reylo Week 2018, Day 2 and can also be found on my tiny shit little blog on Tumblr @madandmisquoted.  
> The theme is darkness. Lost of possessive and obsessive behavior and some strongly adult language. This is part of a bigger work that will continue for this project, mostly because I don't know when to stop writing. My bad. I have issues too. Hope you enjoy and I'll be posting more on this story soon. Thanks!

Mine. She’s mine. _MINE._

All he could think about was someone else touching her. How that thought stole the air from his lungs. She was his and no one else’s. No one could understand her like he could, no one knew her like he did. She may have rejected him and shut the door in his face but she was his and… and… and he couldn’t find her. Without her the darkness rose and crashed through him like waves, each darker and deeper than the next. It raged in her absence.

It was eating him up inside, tinging the edges of his vision. At first, he thought it would be no trouble to find her and surely the Resistance would come out of hiding before long, some piece of intelligence would cause them to cross paths again, but it had been _months_ without word. He had fleeting visions of her through their bond but as soon as she noticed it, she’d shut it down, rejecting him all over again. Each time his darkness rose, strangling him with grief and anger. Then the nightmares started. They were a different kind of torture than the visions he’d had under Snoke’s tutelage but they made him wake in cold sweats and waves of nausea. He would dream about her, about her being breathless and flushed, moaning with enjoyment. He could only catch what rose from the darkness in these visions, golden skin rising from shadows to be caressed eliciting exotic noises from her throat stretched in the void, echoing her desire.  Each time it began he would think it was for him and then he’d see the other person, the traitor, the pilot, some nameless Resistance lackey. It was worse when it was more than one. He would wake screaming. Sometimes in anger, sometimes he woke screaming in sorrow. The darkness always answered him, curling around his chest and throat. He started to avoid sleep. He had never slept much to begin with and now he was sleeping less and less. It was starting to show. He was nodding off in meetings, slipping in sparring with his Knights, violent outbursts for minor infractions and mishaps. It was becoming clear to everyone around him that the Supreme Leader was losing his mind. Force choking Hux barely took the edge off anymore.

Then there was the night that he woke up and she was asleep in his bed, shrouded in the shadows cast by the red lights from the ambient lights and passing stars. It was impossible. He had to be dreaming again. He reached out to touch her face with a shaking hand. It was solid and warm and flooded him with light when his fingers grazed her skin. He jerked his hand back, instantly afraid to wake her. She’d just shut him out again, _reject_ him, _push him away_ the darkness lamented as it curled into a hard, cold knot in his chest. He couldn’t take that again. It was bad enough it happened every night in his dreams. He sucked in a raspy breath and just stared at her sleeping with such peace. Then her brows furrowed and she became restless in her slumber. She reached out and found him, curling herself into his chest and settled again. “Mmm… you’re so warm, Ben…” she muttered against him, still entirely asleep. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. The dark trilled with excitement sending little tendrils out, reaching towards her. He lifted his arm and paused before tentatively draping it over her. He pulled her in and she sighed happily. It was the first night since the Battle of Crait that he slept dreamlessly, but it just made it worse. When he woke, he was alone and the darkness screeched in fury and despair. He wasn’t sure if the Force had connected them or if he was actually losing his mind. This need, this obsession of his was choking him to death. He was volcanic and volatile to everyone in his path. He didn’t hear a word that Hux said. He didn’t care what was going on in the First Order or the galaxy. He didn’t give a single fuck about the whispers behind his back. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew there was a coup brewing but he could not bring himself to care. Death had to be better than being trapped in this hell. Each night, his jealousy just grew stronger, each day his wrath was harsher. It was only a matter of time before the darkness consumed him entirely.

She appeared again. This time she was in the ‘fresher. She had just stepped into the shower when he grabbed her arm and whirled her around. She attempted to use the Force on whoever her attacker was but it did nothing through their bond.

“Where the fuck are you?” he demanded through gritted teeth, half shouting and wild eyed, pinning her against the wall with his frame. The water pouring over them soaked him giving him the look of a feral, wounded, animal.

“Get out, Ben! Leave me be!” Rey growled at him but there was something pleading in her voice.

“I fucking can’t, Rey. I can’t leave you alone. You’re fucking haunting me. I can’t fucking sleep. I can’t take another night of dreaming about you fucking someone else. You’re mine. You know it. I know it. The motherfucking FORCE knows it. That’s why we’re here in this hell. Now tell me where the fuck you are. I need to know. I have to know. I’m not going to send anyone in after you. I… I just need to know.” he said, searching her eyes with desperation leaking through his tone.

She sighed. She looked exhausted, he realized. Her eyes were watery and red rimmed with dark circles clashing with her tanned skin. She looked like a fragile caged animal deciding whether to attack or flee. She stared at him for a moment longer, then softened her face and stance, surrendering against her better judgement.

“I’m on Cardooine, at an old Rebel base that has been long forgotten.” She said with a touch of exasperation. “Please don’t do anything foolish.”

“I thought everything I did was foolish to you.” He almost smiled but there was a hole in his chest. The darkness in him roared with something possessive and hungry, leaving a hollow ache unsatisfied.

That night he could not sleep. He could feel the pull to her. He was fighting with everything he had to stay where he was. His mind was a shattered landscape of battles fought and lost. He worked for this for so long. He was finally the Supreme Leader and he had the galaxy at his command. Yet the only thing he wanted, he could not have. How dare she deny their bond? How dare she deny him? Who exactly did she think she was to defy him in such a way? He looked around his quarters. He hadn’t moved to Snoke’s quarters and he never would, but he would probably be better off if he at least moved to rooms that he had not decimated in his frustration, time and time again. He was a product of his madness and obsession. He finally accepted that he had completely lost his mind to be considering doing exactly what she did not want him to do, what would cost him everything he had ever worked for, and what would in all probability, get him fucking killed. Death would be better, he decided. Death would be endless darkness and ease this ache.

“Fuck it.” He stormed out of his quarters with a singular intention. He headed to the hanger and prepped his ship for launch. He was going to get what rightfully belonged to him.


End file.
